What She Would Have Given
by The Last Poison Apple
Summary: Though the wedding bells are ringing loud and clear for her, Narcissa's winding thoughts are anything but. Oneshot from Narcissa's head on her wedding day!


**Hey guys! This was written for The Hogwarts Games, Women's Tennis Round 2. Though I can't say I think this is a particularly good piece, it's _something_, at least, and _something_ is always better than _nothing_. So! This takes place in Narcissa's head, really, at her and Lucius' wedding. I'm not sure when Cyrus and Druella died, so for the purposes of this fic please assume that Cyrus died before the wedding and Druella after. Yep. That's about it. Oh, and even though Narcissa is really supposed to love Lucius and all, it could have started out differently, yes? That's what this fic aims to represent, besides the differences between her thoughts and what Andromeda would have thought. Or something to that extent. Yeah, I'm not too sure, either. You guys can decide.**

**So, I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

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Narcissa sometimes wished she had followed Andromeda, out of the Black family.

She looked around the tent, and sighed. This was one of those times, most definitely.

Of course, that wish would be squelched almost immediately, for the very idea was disgusting. A Black, mixing with mudbloods and muggles? The very idea was preposterous. It would be like wallowing around societal mud, and that would be repulsive and completely below a Black. After all, the Blacks were a very influential, very powerful family, and Narcissa didn't understand why anyone would want to trade a respectable pureblood lifestyle for that of a mudblood's. Surely it couldn't be as comfortable, as proper?

But for all its propriety, it did get suffocating. Being a Black in pureblood society was about being submissive, as well –follow Father's demands, become whatever the Blacks needed at that time –if it was a Malfoy wife, then that was all good and well.

In her own way, she _was_ following Andy out of the Black family, wasn't she? What was different about their situations was that she was exiting the Black family into a respectable, pureblooded one –the Malfoys –while Andy had left for some mudblood Narcissa had never really noticed before her sister had run off with him –Tanks, wasn't it? No, Tonks?

Yes, Tonks. Narcissa often wondered what her sister had seen in him –he was just so _muggle_. It was expected, of course, given that he was a mudblood, that Andy would have been disowned the moment she announced her engagement to him, and this often led Narcissa to ponder the reasons Andy had chosen to go ahead with it anyway. Did she really think she was better off with a mudblood?

She might have, but Narcissa knew better. Purebloods were above muggles, above those despicable thieves of magic, the mudbloods. They were simply above, while the rest of the world was scum below their feet. It was a simple, universal truth which her sister had, for reasons she couldn't comprehend, disagreed with. And that, of course, had led to her being cast out of the family for good –not that it seemed her sister had minded. In fact, Narcissa had often thought her sister had seemed positively ecstatic (though she _had_ tried to hide it) about being cast out; when Druella and Cyrus had all but thrown her out of the house, Andy had summoned her things from the porch and walked off with a little spring in her step Narcissa had never been able to figure out. Why was she happy about it? It was a great dishonor, to be cast out of one's family, especially if said family was pureblooded.

In that moment, Narcissa had realized she had never understood her sister much at all.

But that was enough about the past. Narcissa fingered the white satin skirt of her dress, humming softly to herself. It was her turn to get married now, like her sister had, though unlike her sister, she wasn't getting cast out for it, and her groom was a respectable, well off, pureblooded man. "And that's all good and well," Narcissa reassured herself. "Because you want this. Think about all the prestige and power the Malfoy name will bring you…"

She bit her lip lightly. She _did_ want this. Even if she didn't know whether or not this marriage would bring her happiness (happiness was a long forgotten concept, if she was to be honest with herself), she at least knew she would be doing better than Andy was, however Andy was doing. She really hadn't heard about Andy for a long time, and she wasn't bothered about that in the least. After all, Andy was gone to her, much like her father was (thank Merlin; his expectations had simply grown more and more unreasonable since Andy had become disowned), lying in his grave. Though of course, that hadn't stopped her _mother_ from doing the job of accepting Lucius' proposal on her behalf, her own wishes and considerations be damned. While she hadn't many qualms about marrying Lucius (a respectable man, she had gathered from her time in Hogwarts) she would have appreciated a _choice_, or even just a _say_ in the matter. Maybe _this_ was why Andy had ran-

_Enough about Andy!_ Narcissa snapped at herself. Thoughts about Andy were ridiculous, were they not? She shook her head, smiling to herself. Yes, today was about _her._ Well, her and Lucius.

But, still… Narcissa sometimes thought it would be far, far better if the expectations of being a Black, and that of Lucius' parents, were absent. She sensed that Lucius could be a better man, truly, if society wasn't expecting them to be so much. But society's expectations were there, and Narcissa could only think wistfully about the kind of freedom Andy must have attained.

It was at times like this, when another major choice in her life had simply been taken from her, that Narcissa felt that there was close to nothing she would not have given to understand the thoughts that went through her sister's mind. They must have been liberating thoughts, to have been able to put a spring in her step as she was cast out.

And as she was escorted out the tent and down the aisle, Narcissa thought that she would have given _anything_ to experience that liberation.


End file.
